He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "Because the Veches think you're Ana—their Donna. The womanwho runs their entire organization. Why would they try to kill their own leader?"
"Maybe they know I'm a fake."
"They don't know anything." His voice is controlled, but he's not calm by any means. I've riled him up and he's boxing in his reactions. "If they knew you were a fake, they'd expose you. They'd use it to discredit us, to turn our own play against us. Killing you gains them nothing."
"Then who was the shooter trying to hit?"
"Me." He says it like it's obvious, like I'm stupid for even asking. "I'm the one holding their Donna hostage. They want me dead so they can have you back."
I stare at him as I wrap my arms around myself. "You really believe that?"
"I know that. It's what I would do if I were in their position." He uncrosses his arms and leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. "They want Ana back. Without her, Yaros has no real authority. The whole Veche empire starts to crumble."
"And that's supposed to make me feel better? That they were trying to murder you instead of me?" He's stupid. I shake my head and scowl at him. As if it matters whether they're shooting at him or me. They were still shooting. And what would’ve happened if they shot him and came and took me, only to find out I'm not really their Donna?
"It should make you feel safer. You're valuable to them alive. As long as they believe you're Ana, they won't risk hurting you."
I let out a bitter laugh that scrapes my throat raw. "I'm sick of hearing that. I don't want my value in life linked to somestranger I've never met. I am a human with feelings." I shake my head, feeling the anger rising in my chest. "I've done enough, Lev. I want out."
"You can't just?—"
"I want to go home," I spit, but I'm fighting back tears. I've barely even reacted to the fact that I was kidnapped and forced to be his little pawn. I think it's time he hears what I really feel. "I've played your game. I've worn your clothes and memorized your videos and let people think I'm someone I'll never be. And all I've gotten for it is shot at in a fucking theater while eating overpriced salmon. So forgive me if I'm done being valuable."
Lev stands slowly, unfolding from his chair. When he rises to his full height it's intimidating, though I feel a flutter of that same morbid attraction I get when he looks at me. He stalks around the table toward me, and I take an instinctive step back, bumping into the wall.
"You promised me this would help people," I say, trembling now. "I haven't heard a single thing about any women being saved. Where are they, Lev? Where are all these girls I'm supposedly rescuing?" He inches forward but I push at his chest, keeping him back from me.
"These things take time."
"How much time? A week? A month? A year?" I can feel tears burning my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. "Or were you just telling me what I wanted to hear so I'd cooperate?" My fist pounds into his chest, but I'm positive I’m the only one who feels the sting of it.
Lev's eyes darken and narrow on me, and he snatches my wrist as he glares down his nose at me.
"The operation's still ongoing," he says. "When the routes open up, when we have control?—"
"When, when, when!" I shout, jerking free of his grip. "It's always 'when' with you. And it's never going to happen." Pushing him hard, I try to move past him, but he boxes me in. "I don't believe you anymore. There aren't any women being saved. I think you made up a pretty story to get me to do what you wanted, and I fell for it like an idiot because I'm a stupid woman who is trusting and gullible and you're just this handsome stranger."
"Vivika—"
"I want to go home!" I shout again, this time pounding his chest so hard he backs up, but he grabs both of my wrists again and glares at me.
"You can't go home."
"Why? Because I'm still necessary?" I spit the word back at him like poison. "You haven't finished using me yet?"
His jaw tightens. He's fighting to keep his temper in check, and I'm a little frightened to know what it looks like when he loses his temper. "If you leave now, the plan is over. Yaros wins."
"That's your problem. You dragged me into this."
"And now you're in it whether you like it or not." Now when he steps forward pinning both of my wrists tightly to my chest, I shudder. "You think you can just go home and we'll leave you alone because we promised, but what happens when they find you?"
"Maybe I'd rather take my chances."
"You wouldn't last a week."
All the fear and anger and exhaustion I've been holding back comes flooding out at once, tears spilling down my cheeks. He dragged me into this and I don't want to be here anymore. But I don't get a choice. Now whoever is shooting—at me or at him—will hunt me down no matter where I run to. I'll never be safe again.
"I hate you," I whisper. "I hate you for doing this to me."
